


Maybe if You Were I Would

by Merelymine



Series: A Million Ways [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason is definitely messed up, M/M, Robincest, Roughness, Tim Drake is Robin, because the Batfamily is kind of messed up, between Jason and Tim, seriously read the tags, take care of yourselves, this whole series is kinda messed up, which Tim is not about to let happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:09:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merelymine/pseuds/Merelymine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That’s right.  Timothy, patron vigilante of lost causes, giving St. Jude a run for his money.</p><p>or</p><p>Jason has a bad night and Tim is caught in the middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe if You Were I Would

**Author's Note:**

> So. Let's talk time period. This whole series of stories is set not too long after Jason is revealed to be the new Red Hood, and everyone finds out he's been resurrected or what have you. This Jason is an unreliable, half out of his mind and dangerous vigilante. 
> 
> That being said, I encourage you to read the tags, and heed them. I would also like to point out the comments, where I've addressed some of the issues with what goes down in this fic.

They say it’s not the fall that kills you, but the sudden stop at the end. This is not entirely true. It would be more accurate to say that it’s the deceleration itself that kills you. The speed at which your body stops. G-forces, terminal velocity, all that fun stuff. Tim feels like he’s been free-falling for days. Ever since the incident with Jason it’s felt like he’s been gaining momentum, spiraling out of control. Caught in a rapidly degrading orbit, tugged ever farther along by the increasing gravity.

He can’t stop thinking about it.

It had just felt like Bruce was issuing a challenge. One that he obviously, _obviously,_ didn’t expect Tim to take, but a challenge nonetheless.

Tim’s never been one to back down from a challenge, even one that is clearly hopeless.

That’s right. Timothy, patron vigilante of lost causes, giving St. Jude a run for his money.

He’s seen Jason twice since that night. From the safety of gargoyles and rooftops and the distance afforded by a set of binoculars, but even so, he’s been…

Obsessing.

Waiting for the deceleration of a sudden stop.

Jason’s getting closer, he can feel it. Almost as if he can sense him getting tired of waiting. Tim’s been doing his best to avoid him tonight, because Jason has his good days, and he has his bad days, and today has _not_ been a good day.

Jason stopped a gang rape earlier tonight. Tim only knows about it because he finds a girl in an alleyway, wearing Jason’s jacket and standing over the bodies of five men who are varying degrees of ‘beaten to a bloody pulp.’

The girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen, the heavy leather jacket swallowing her small frame. It went down almost to her knees, and was obviously covering her own shredded clothes. Tim gives her one of his disposable phones and instructs her to call 9-1-1, and then does what he can for the brutally beaten men as they wait for the ambulance. It’s not much.

As soon as he hears the sirens drawing close he leaves her and heads for the rooftops, hoping he might be able to continue his usual patrol route without running into anything else.

Another hour or so with no sign of Jason and he thinks he might get away this time. 

“Little bird, little bird…”

Or not. He's not so lucky.

The voice doesn't sound too close. It sing-songs around the buildings, echoing strangely against sheet metal and stone. Tim does not flinch, doesn't move from his position against the crumbling brick of a rooftop stairwell even as his heart jackknifes in his chest.

If he had harbored any doubt that he was being stalked, it's obliterated now.

“Little bird...”

Closer this time. Almost on top of him, and yes.

Jason's on the roof above him.

Hasn't spotted him yet, so Tim has one chance.

To get away. Jason on a bad day is not something to mess with.

Tim makes it halfway across the roof before he's tackled from behind, grappled and somehow kept upright. Jason spins them around, and in two steps has Tim pinned against the wall. Jason’s mouth is on his jaw, and when he gasps Jason’s right there, tongue pushing into his open mouth.

The kiss is both familiar and utterly different than before. Jason is the same, smells the same, tastes the same, but at the same time he's a stranger, rough and relentless. His teeth catch on Tim's lower lip hard enough to hurt, and there is nothing Tim can do but take it. Still himself in the bruising grip Jason has on his arm, on his _throat_ , and just hope he hasn't made a terrible mistake.

He can't help but react to it, though. He wants Jason, his body wants Jason, remembers Jason's hands on his skin and the heavy feel of him in his mouth. This is stupid, stupid,  _stupid_ , but Tim can't pull himself together enough to figure out a way to get away.

Jason's hand falls from his arm, falls down to Tim's belt. He breaks the kiss to focus on what he's doing and Tim hears himself moan, faintly and far away.

And that's just about the time Tim hears the _snick_ of a switchblade releasing. Feels the sharp, insistent pressure of a blade against the bare skin just under his jaw. Right above the armored gorget of his cape.

“Is that really necessary?” Tim asks through his teeth, not willing to move too much with a knife pressed against his throat. He sounds breathless and wrecked and he can't help but hate himself a little for it.

Jason snorts, not looking up from where is other hand is working on Tim’s belt. “Didn’t want a fight.”

“You could’ve just asked,” Tim says, feeling his heart trip over itself as the blade shifts against his skin. It’s not that he really thinks Jason will hurt him, it’s just that there’s a _knife_ against his throat.

Jason looks up then the lenses of his mask down so Tim can't see his eyes, leans in close to Tim and breathes against his ear, warm and amused. “Is that all it would take, little bird? I doubt it. Besides, what’s to stop me from just taking what I want from you, hmm? Right here on this rooftop.”

Something goes cold and still inside of him. Jason wouldn't.

Well, not on a good day he wouldn't.

This is not a good day.

“Because,” Tim says, struggling with the words. “Because then you’d be no better than the rest of them.” Tim turns his head, the strain of not disturbing the knife against his neck making it a little difficult, until his mouth is almost touching Jason’s. “I know you’ve killed for less.”

Jason's face twists, and he looks away. Shakes his head and focuses his attention back down on Tim's belt. He almost has it open, suddenly grinning as he says, “Doesn't matter, now I've—AH!”

Tim reacts swiftly, grabbing Jason’s arm and shoving him back, so the electric jolt doesn’t cause him to slice Tim open. The knife clatters to the ground as Jason falls to his knees, swearing rather spiritedly, and Tim regards him with a raised eyebrow while he fixes his belt and rearms it. He didn’t think Jason’s leather gloves were very insulated. Now he’s sure of it.

Tim kicks the knife away and steps forward, leaning over to grab Jason by the hair and jerk his head back. “You're better than this, Jason,” he growls. Then, sweetly, “And if you'd asked, then maybe I would’ve told you how to disarm the taser in my belt.”

Jason snarls at him, and Tim grins. There's enough of a shock in his belt to keep Jason on his knees for about a minute, muscles twitching, refusing to obey his commands.

Tim pats his cheek with his free hand, letting his gauntlet covered thumb drag across Jason's lower lip. “So next time, you ask nicely, okay? And no knives. I’m really not into that.”

Tim lets him go and steps back quickly, out of the way as Jason lurches forward. He turns, shooting a grapple into the air and jumping off the edge of the roof in one smooth movement. Escapes into the air and heads for home. Maybe Bruce is right. Maybe Jason, maybe this ridiculous quest to bring him back is not something he can do. That's never stopped him before, of course.

He's not giving up.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am happy to address any of your concerns with this story. Don't hesitate to comment.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @ [merelymine](http://merelymine.tumblr.com)


End file.
